Loose Ends
by ThrowingShade
Summary: "It was a girl, tiny and delicate looking, but the cold expression on her face could move mountains." The events that lead up to the encounter on Mt. Silver. Rated T for violence.


Loose Ends

He woke up standing in the middle of his room, not even realizing that he had been asleep. _I must have spaced out,_ he thought, because nothing else could explain suddenly coming into awareness while ramrod-upright. All the same, something felt off, like he had shrugged off a heavy shroud.

He shuffled over to his bed, trying to remember what he had been doing as he sat on its edge. _Of course-_ and he shot off the bed as quickly as he had gotten onto it- _today's the day I get a Pokémon!_ He didn't know how he could have forgotten; he'd been counting the days on his calendar for months, eagerly awaiting his chance to go on a journey and prove himself. He ran down the stairs.

"Mom! I'm not late, am I?" His mother was in the kitchen, her back bent slightly- and perhaps, perhaps he shouldn't have shoved it into her face quite so bluntly because here was a woman who seemed broken. She had been looking forward to his journey as much as he was, he thought. Was he wrong?

"Glad to see you home, dear." She said, turning around. Any sadness he thought he had seen in her was gone. "You should take a quick rest; you look exhausted." And with no further ado she gently pushed him back up the stairs and into his room. He was too shocked to protest.

"What? But I have to get to the professor!" He said, as the door closed on him. "Mom, I-"

"Glad to see you home dear." She turned around halfway down the stairs, and the procedure repeated itself. "You should take a quick rest; you look exhausted." Slam, the door was shut in his face once more. He stared at it.

She wasn't taking it as well as he thought she would. That had to be it. His best friend had told him stories about parents like this; parents who snapped suddenly, refused to let their children go on journeys. Stories told in darkened rooms with only a flashlight for illumination, about parents who locked their children in closets or severed their Achilles tendons, rather than see them go.

He jumped out of the window, rather than risk trying to go by his mother again. He was good at it, from his best friends tutoring. "You never know when you might need to sneak out" he had said. The weirdo had been right. He ran to the lab, instead of walking; maybe once he got a Pokémon his mother would accept that this was happening.

"Red!" The man called out when he saw him run into the lab. Normally he would have been lectured for running around so many "breakables", but today he didn't seem to mind. "Did you come to get your pokedex evaluated?"

"Poke- no. I came to get a Pokémon. And that's not my name." Professor Oak smiled indulgently.

"Pokémon like to hide in tall grass. Keep looking, champion- I'm sure you can do it!"

"What? What are you talking about? I haven't started the pokedex project yet."

"Red! Did you come to get your pokedex evaluated?" It was like watching a record skip. He shook his head and walked backwards, ran away before Oak could repeat himself fully.

His mother was getting antsy about his journey, and now the Professor was going senile. But he still wanted to go on his journey; he had to. So he gathered his courage and snuck into the house, right past his mother, who sat at the table looking forward blankly. She never turned.

He had some money saved up for his journey. If he could just get to the next town without being attacked then he could buy a pokeball and catch his first Pokémon on his own. It was the sort of thing his mother had told him never to do, but he didn't have much of a chance now. He knew that had to go on his journey, his very bones commanded him to. Sorting through the things on his desk, he found something new.

A belt, full of pokeballs.

 _This isn't mine,_ he thought, picking it up and looping it around his waist with practiced ease. _This isn't mine,_ he thought as he took out the first ball and released what was inside.

"Pika pi!" He screamed.

* * *

The wind on the mountains peak rushed around him, but he hardly cared. He was as much a part of the storms cloaking this area now as the snow was. A bit of wind didn't bother him.

Percy was on his lap, hiding from the cold as he watched the snow dance. It had taken him a long time to relearn how to trust the team- his team- but it was easier with Percy. Meeting him, after the initial shock, felt like meeting an old friend; awkward at first, but easy once old habits were reawakened.

What hadn't been easy was traveling around a region where everyone knew who he was, and what he had done over the past year, while he knew none of it. Eventually he couldn't take the sense of familiarity that arose when he walked into towns he had never been to before and he had searched for a place where he wouldn't have to deal with it. Here on Mount Silver he found a scrap of peace; he had never been here before and forgotten, he was sure of it. Now he watched the storms like an Xatu watched the sun, staring in the hope of gaining some knowledge the world had hidden in plain sight.

There was a disturbance behind him, boots crunching snow. He stood and turned, Percy in his arms.

It was a girl, tiny and delicate looking, but the cold expression on her face could move mountains. A typhlosion stood behind her, flames on his back burning slowly in the cold. He was scared to look in her eyes, suddenly, didn't want to look for whatever reason.

He looked, and shuddered.

 _I know you!_ He wanted to scream, but his mouth wasn't working. _Go away, I know what you are! Leave me alone!_

It was no use, though, and she held out a pokeball in her hand. The question was clear- battle? _No, no, I don't want to, go away._ Percy jumped out of his arms, electricity crackling around him, ready for the fight. The girl sent out a steelix.

* * *

She beat him easily, and he didn't know what was more embarrassing, the fact that he had lost, or the fact that he wanted to wet himself. _It won't be so bad,_ he consoled himself as he held out her prize money. She took it like it had belonged to her all along. _This is why you carry revives; you can wake up charizard and he can take you down to the Pokémon center. It's-_ the ill feeling he had felt ever since she arrived spiked, as she stepped delicately around blastoise to stand next to him. Blastoise, loyal despite the fact that he couldn't really trust him, had loved him without reason, and had fought to the end for him.

"Who are you?" He managed to whisper. She looked down at him. In place of an answer, she pushed him off the cliff.


End file.
